


Raise A Morphine Toast

by suchanoldcliche



Series: OTP: Steal You Away From the Storm [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: BuckyXan, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, terminal illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 01:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3591729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchanoldcliche/pseuds/suchanoldcliche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is all about how you cope with the hard stuff. It's about the moments when you feel like you'll break and instead you rise up, stronger and better than ever before. Xander may not have the strength of his mom or the courage of his best friends, but he has the heart of a soldier. Being told his illness is raging his body, wreaking havoc on his systems and organs, won't stop him from living. From experiencing things he's always dreamed of.</p>
<p>Nor will it keep him from love, no matter how hard he may fight it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Why Your Heart Cries

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose this fic is a combination of A Walk To Remember, Sweet November, and Third Star. I was inspired to write this by a prompt, and I've already fallen in love with the story line.
> 
> For added effect, listen to "Only Time" by Enya while you read this. Every chapter title will be taken from a line from that song.

Someone once asked him, back when he’d first learned he was terminal, what it was like knowing he could die at any moment. They wanted to know how he faced his mortality, how he could get up in the morning and greet the day with just as bright a smile as he’d had when there was still hope he’d recover.

The boy didn't even have to think about his answer. He’d smiled, leaned forward, folded his hands together, and said, “I've always known how fragile my life is. A car could spin out of control and hit me on my way home. A bully could hit me the wrong way and suddenly I have irreparable brain damage. Or worse. Being told what I've already been aware of since I was a child hasn't changed anything for me, but… it would change everything for my friends.”

His smile reached his eyes. Made them shine. Looking at him in that state, watching his expression, you’d never believe he was as sick as he was. He seemed so happy, so full of life. But Xander had always been good at hiding things. He had to be.

“I feel bad, honestly. Some of them have stopped talking to me, but I don’t blame them. They want to remember me the way I am right now. I have color in my cheeks and light in my eyes. I can still smile and laugh. My body hasn't shut down on me yet. Well, not completely, anyway.” He couldn't help the soft chuckle that fell from his lips at that; as ill-timed it may have seemed, he had to find humor in the little things, otherwise he’d go insane. “It’s… kind of why I've chosen to keep the truth to myself.”

As the words left him, his mind was filled with piercing blue eyes and a crooked smile. He couldn't possibly tell his boyfriend how bad things had gotten, not when the man was so hopeful he’d beat this mystery disease. Xander knew the poor guy’s heart couldn't take knowing what the boy learned, so he had every intention of keeping this recent diagnosis a secret.

The look in the nurse’s eyes was one of thinly veiled pity. Xander wished he could say that was the first time a nurse had given him that despairing sort of look, like she was silently apologising for the hand he’d been dealt, but it wasn't. And he was positive it wouldn't be the last.

Once she was gone, the boy leaned back and laid down, his body resting comfortably in the thin sheets despite feeling bitterly cold. He took a deep, shaky breath, then let the morphine pump do its job, numbing the pain just long enough for him to slip unconscious.

As usual, when everything went dark, he wasn't greeted by dreams or by memories. Instead, his brain simply shut off, like someone powered him down and he’d have to wait for someone to turn him back on. Like he was a machine, not a person.

But it would be okay. Everything would be okay. Because now that Xander had been told he was terminal, there was nothing more the hospital could do for him. He could go home, spend the next couple of weeks with his family. Die in comfort, rather than fear.

And he couldn't wait.


	2. When The Roads Meet

A young man, barely starting his twenties, stared up at the apartment building with wonder in his eyes, his raggedy old blanket wrapped tightly around his thin frame. He’d had that thing for years - ever since he was a child - and although it did little to keep the cold out, it was comforting in the best sort of way. Like he was protected. Safe. He smiled to himself, bright brown hues brimming with excitement as he took the last couple of steps from where he stood on the sidewalk up to the door. Reaching a hand out to open it, he pulled on the handle and was greeted by a rush of hot air, his olive skin flushing a deep red as he stepped inside.

The change in temperature, in atmosphere, took a bit to get used to. Xander coughed into his blanket, his head spinning so fast that he needed to close his eyes for a moment. His body’s equilibrium would be rebooting quite a bit for the next couple of days, especially after being in a car for six hours. (It would’ve been four and a half, but there was no way Xander could make the whole trip from Washington D.C. to Brooklyn without stopping. Not with how sick he was.) Once he couldn’t feel the room moving anymore, he opened his eyes and exhaled slowly. He would definitely be spending at least a full day in bed after getting everything upstairs.

A gentle hand rested on the boy’s shoulder, causing him to turn and look up at the man standing beside him. His smile was weak, but his eyes shone with affection. “I’m okay, papi.”

“You sure?” If his tone didn’t convey just how worried he was, the helplessness in his eyes, the way his lips were pulled into a deep frown, and the uncertainty in his grip on Xander’s shoulder all spoke volumes. “You can go upstairs if you need to. I’ll take care of things down here.”

“No, no.” Xander shook his head slowly. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You’re not the one moving here, anyway. I’ll do whatever I can.”

A couple walked by the two, the woman casting Xander a sad smile before averting her gaze. The man beside Xander, Luis, turned his attention to her, then back the boy. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he whispered, moving his hand to Xander’s neck, as a man would do to his son. “You can stay in the hospital. I’m sure they could buy you more time-”

“We’ve been over this, papi.” He offered his best friend, his father-figure, a reassuring smile. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve… always wanted to see New York, anyway. Maybe see a show on Broadway, or watch the Christmas tree lighting in Rockefeller Center. And I don’t want to fear what’s coming to me. Staying in that hospital - in any hospital - would make things feel so much worse.”

The man was silent for a moment. Still as a statue. In fact, if Xander didn’t know any better, he’d say Luis was frozen in time. When he spoke again, Xander could hear how Luis was struggling with the words. “You sound just like your mother.”

“I got my strength from her,” he said, pride filling his chest and making him smile. He reached up and cradled Luis’ face in his hands. “You worry too much.”

“Yeah, because you’re her son. You’re just as stubborn as she was. Remember?”

“Oh, I remember. Trust me.” Xander’s smile broadened, though there was quite a bit of tiredness clouding his eyes; he’d been active far too much today, and the fatigue he felt - tried to fight back, tried to hide - was breaking through that strong mask of his. “It’s just an apartment, papi. I’ll be okay. Your live-in nurse will be staying with me, won’t she?”

“Who, Alex? Yeah, she should already be up there.”

“There, see? Anything happens, she’ll be right there to help.”

“I don’t know about this, mijo…”

“You’ve already driven me here. There’s no point in putting my body through another six-hour trip to D.C.”

It was endearing to Xander, how concerned Luis was about him. As they got Xander’s things together - what few things he had to his name - and brought them up to his new apartment, Xander couldn’t help but think of when his mother was still alive. She’d been sick too, just like Xander, but her illness had taken her ability to walk very early on. The boy felt beyond lucky to still be mobile, though he had to admit, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last like that. However, despite them exhibiting signs of having the same illness, Gloria had lived plenty of time after the onset of symptoms.

Xander had been given weeks, possibly months, before his body shuts down. It could be his heart that gives out first. Or his diaphragm, causing his lungs to stop contracting and his breathing to cease. Or a brain tumor. He could go peacefully or painfully.

Hard to tell, really, but Xander didn’t want to think about that, so he tried to focus on all the good he’d do in New York before he kicked the bucket.

Luis, the angel that he was, immediately began unpacking the boy’s few boxes and putting things all over the small, one bedroom apartment. Alex, Xander’s live-in nurse, carefully eased the boy into his bed and covered him with warm blankets.

“Want me to hook your morphine pump up for you?” she asked calmly, two fingers pressed gently to the side of Xander’s neck as she checked her watch. “It’s just in the bathroom. I was still setting up when you got here.”

“No, I… I think I’m okay.”

“Bullshit,” Luis said, leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed. “Give it to him anyway. Don’t let him trick you into thinking he’s fine. He’s a stubborn ass.”

Xander couldn’t hide his smile as his eyelids slowly slid over his reddened eyes. “You love me.”

“Damn right, I do. No idea why, though. You’re a little shit.”

“I love you too, Dad,” the boy teased.

Even without looking at the wall of a man, Xander knew Luis was rolling his eyes. Probably turning and going back to whatever he’d been unpacking, too. That was the thing about Luis that Xander admired the most - on the surface, Luis was a rock. He was always strong, always had his emotions under control, and he was a man people could turn to when they were in trouble. He was a five-foot-eleven Spanish guy with stubble, warm brown eyes, and hair that was so fluffy, it looked like a cloud. If you didn’t know him, you’d look at him and feel intimidated. He was big and seemed dangerous, what with the serious expression that was always on his face and the level of confidence he seemed to have. (When Xander was little, he would’ve bet anything that Luis could stare a statue into submission.)

Those who knew him thought he was basically a giant teddy bear, even without watching his whole face light up when he smiled.

Well. A teddy bear with razor sharp teeth, anyway. Mess with any of his cubs - any of his family, period - and you’ll wish you hadn’t.

“Is Andy coming after work?” Xander called, opening his eyes and lifting his head off the pillow. “Or are you going home before then?”

“Nah, I’m not goin’ anywhere. I don’t wanna leave you like this, and he knows it. He’ll probably come here. He felt bad for not-”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Andy un mocoso.”

Luis laughed. “You’re telling me.” Xander could hear grunting and the soft shuffling of boxes coming from the living room; seemed Luis was determined to get the apartment unpacked today, after all. “Been married to that guy for years and I still don’t understand why he’s got such a guilty conscience.”

“Now I know who I get it from,” Xander said with a smile, his eyes closing again.

A quiet whirring sound filled the boy’s ears, making him relax into his bed. It was nothing like being in the hospital, and Xander couldn’t be more grateful for that. If he was going to die someday, he wanted to do it in a place where he felt at home.

Now he understood why his mother hated going to the hospital so much.

“Alright, I’m gonna have to stick you with an IV if you’re gonna sleep, sweetie. Is that okay?” Latex slapping against skin echoed through the air, causing Xander to tense; it didn’t matter how many times he needed a needle stuck into him, it always made him nervous. If she was already putting her gloves on… 

The boy dragged his dry tongue over his even drier lips. “Luis…?”

“I’m right here, mijo.”

When he felt the warm hand holding his own, Xander relaxed a little bit, though not nearly enough to feel comfortable again. He turned his head away from the whirring of the machine beside him, away from where the nurse was flicking at his arm, trying to get a vein to pop out at her, in favor of staring at Luis. In moments like these, Xander seemed to revert back to a frightened child, like when he turned seven and exhibited symptoms of a rare childhood cancer. Thankfully, that wasn’t what it’d been, but Luis and Xander both agree - whatever it was back then took its time to manifest, and had he been cured as a child, he wouldn’t have gotten sick as a young adult.

Then again, how much could Western medicine do to treat an alien disease?

“Remember the first time you needed to get blood drawn?” Luis asked, squeezing the boy’s hand gently. “You were just a kid. Routine checkup, or so they said.”

“Yeah,” Xander mumbled weakly, a corner of his lips curling upwards into a lopsided smile. “Andy sat in the back of the car with me on the way home and told me all about medical school, ‘cause he still wanted to be a doctor back then.”

“He also told you your blood was pretty.”

“I forgot about that.” The young, curly-haired man laughed softly. “Geez, he was such a dork.”

“Was?”

“I mean, who tells someone that their blood is pretty?”

“He does. Did. And it is; I’ve never seen blood like yours.”

“Not even Mama’s?”

“Nah, hers was normal. Red. Not the bright blue you’ve got.”

“That’s because Mr. Callahan, here, isn’t human.” There’s a hint of amusement in Alex’s voice as she rubbed a spot on Xander’s arm with an alcohol wipe. Oh God, she was about to stick him, wasn’t she? Oh no. Okay. “What was it you said you were?”

“Kree,” he answered. “I think I’m a Ruul Kree, but I’m not entirely sure. Hard to tell when I’ve never met my father.”

“He’s Spanish, Kree, and gay. Triple threat guy.” Xander could hear the cheeky grin in Luis’ voice. “He’s also one helluva singer. And he can dance like no one I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend dancing,” Alex said. “Might pass out that way.”

“I’d suggest slow dancing, but you don’t exactly have a boyfriend.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Xander remarked, opening one eye to look at Luis. “I’m probably gonna die within the year, papi. Bringing someone into my life now would be-- Okay, ow.”

It felt as though pressure had built up in Xander’s arm. He didn’t have to turn his head to know Alex had stuck that needle into his skin, though he wished he didn’t know that’s what that was. He wished he didn’t have to get poked and prodded and develop more colorful bruises. They’d kind of lost their appeal, after having spent the last two years in and out of the hospital. Besides, at this point, the IV was only to keep Xander comfortable, anyway, right?

Why bother?

“Maybe so, but you’ve just turned twenty-one. I wouldn’t write the idea off just yet,” Luis said casually. “You never know what could happen.”

“Yeah, I do. I get too close and then I end up dying and destroying the life of whoever the sorry man was who actually fell for a broken mess like me.”

“...You know, it’s funny.”

Xander opened both eyes to look at Luis. “What is?”

“You’re the second person to say that to me today.”

The boy paused, trying to process that sentence but having way too much trouble with it. His brain must’ve called in sick or something. “...What?”

“Ran into a buddy of mine downstairs when I went to go get the rest of your boxes. He’s still single too. Doesn’t think he’ll find a guy who can handle him. Isn’t sure he wants to, either.”

“I know the feeling,” Xander murmured, his eyelids fluttering as he took a breath that made his lungs feel like they trembled. Alex must’ve already given him a dose of the morphine, because he’s starting to feel really sleepy. “Does he like music…?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

 

~ ~ ~

When you’re trapped in a room for an extended amount of time, it’s very easy to become restless. Xander hated getting cabin fever, so the very moment he felt well enough to get up and out of bed, he did. At first, all he was comfortable doing was walking up the sidewalk to the convenience store on the corner, and sure it wasn’t far, but it got him out of the apartment.

He’d barely been in Brooklyn a month and he already loved it. He loved the people he spoke to and how busy everything seemed to be. He loved how the city really never slept, that there was always something he could do, should he have the energy to get out and do it.

What he loved more than anything, though, was people watching.

On any given day, when Xander was feeling well enough to get out of the apartment and go to the convenience store, he’d buy himself a hot tea and take a seat on the bench halfway between the shop and his building. Bundled up in a jumper, a scarf, a coat, a hat, and mittens, the boy sat on the end of the bench that was closer to home and just watched people pass by. A lot of the time, he’d wonder what their lives were like. He’d see a young woman with fiery red hair and wonder if she’d found someone just as feisty and passionate as she seemed to be. He’d watch an old man help his wife into a cab and wonder what they were like when they first met. Had they been together for decades? Were they already in their old age when they started dating?

Had either of them lost a significant other to some horrible sickness?

Today was the third day he saw that same elderly couple. Like clockwork, they’d hop into a cab at five in the afternoon, the man always smiling like a lunatic as he eased his wife into the car. And the woman, gosh, she’d aged so beautifully. The laugh lines around her dazzling green eyes made her seem so friendly. If they’d been together for a long time, they must’ve had a wonderful life. If not, she must be a very wise, very lovely lady.

Xander shifted on the bench, his arms folded over his stomach as he leaned forward just a little. He’d thought he was strong enough to get from his building to the store, but he’d barely taken ten steps and he already felt sick. Very sick. He’d decided to take a break and sit down until he recovered, and then he was going to keep going. He’d already come this far; he wasn’t turning back now. His body may be broken, but he refused to be beaten by it.

Besides, the store had a new tea today that Xander was just dying to try.

His mind wandered from the couple - now speeding off in the cab - to what Luis had said about a month ago. He’d mentioned a man who felt the same as Xander - that he was too much for anyone to possibly want to be with. Since then, he’d learned the guy’s name was Bucky. Bucky Barnes. He lived in the same building as Xander, apparently, with his best friend, Steve. He was older than Xander, but Luis wouldn’t say how much older. Actually, there was a lot that Luis wouldn’t say, but he heavily implied that the man was haunted by something.

Was Bucky haunted by someone’s death?

“Not drinkin’ tea today?”

Xander blinked, turning his head towards the unfamiliar voice. He squinted, lifting one of his gloved hands to shield his eyes from the blinding sunlight. “Um… No,” he said uncertainly. “I mean, I will be soon, hopefully. I just needed to sit down.” He paused, then tilted his head a little. “...I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Indirectly, yeah.” The man stepped around the bench so Xander could see him better. The very first thing the boy noticed about this guy were his eyes. So… blue. So beautiful. “You’re Luis’ friend, right?”

“Yeah, I am.” It took him a minute before the deep brown within his eyes glowed. He knew who this was. “Wait. Are you Bucky?”

The second thing Xander noticed about him was how bright his smile was, no matter how lopsided it may have been. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Oh my gosh, I’ve heard so much about you! Please,” Xander said, scooting down the bench before patting the spot beside him, “have a seat. I mean, if you’re not busy.”

Bucky’s expression was unreadable as he sat down, almost like he was worried about what Xander had heard. “I’ve got some time,” he said casually. “Oh, but. Here,” he held a travel cup out for Xander, “this is for you.”

The boy looked to it, then back to those crystal blue eyes. Good heavens, they were pretty. This whole guy was pretty. “What…? Is that-”

“The new tea? Yeah. And don’t worry, it’s decaf.”

That’s when Xander realised Luis must’ve said a whole lot about him to Bucky. He didn’t mean to, but when it clicked, he started laughing.

Which obviously confused Bucky to no end. “What’s so-”

“I should’ve known he’d do something like this,” he mused, shaking his head. As the giggles ceased, a smile lingered on his dry lips. “Thank you. Really.” He reached for the cup, his smile broadening when he felt how warm it was. “I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, sure.” Bucky’s own lips were curled into a puckish sort of grin, coupled with a mischievous look in his eyes. “You just realisin’ he was tryin’ to set us up?”

“Little late to the party, I guess,” the boy said sheepishly, hiding his nervous expression behind the top of his tea. He didn’t take his eyes off Bucky as he sipped the drink, the warmth of it spreading through him and making him feel much more relaxed. “So, how much did he tell you?”

“I know you’re basically his son. He was best friends with your mother before she died of some strange illness, and he said you’re sick too.” The pretty, blue-eyed man paused there, looking Xander over for a minute before he shrugged. “I dunno, I don’t see it, but I guess not everything can be seen.” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice at that, and if Xander knew this guy a little better than he did, he might’ve asked about it. But since they’re still basically strangers, the boy kept quiet and let Bucky keep talking. “You moved here from D.C, you love decaf tea and music… Oh! And you’re gay as a maypole. His words, not mine.”

Xander started laughing again, his olive skin glowing hot with embarrassment despite the bitter cold blowing against his face. “That definitely sounds like him.”

“So are you?”

“What, gay? Yeah, definitely.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to laugh. “Babydoll, one look at you and I knew you were gay. No, I meant are you really sick. ‘Cause you don’t look it.”

...Babydoll? The faint pink in Xander’s cheeks darkened to more of a crimson color, his attention torn from Bucky in favor of a lesbian couple crossing the street a couple yards away. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “I’ve never been diagnosed, no.” Not a lie, but technically not the truth, either. “I’m alright. No need to worry.”

“In that case, my friend’s out of the apartment for… Well, I don’t know. He just goes away for a while and I never know when he’s comin’ back. But you’re welcome to come over and watch somethin’ with me, or… whatever.” Before Xander was able to ask, Bucky explained. “Luis told me you get kinda lonely here. And that you haven’t made any friends yet.”

“Of course he did,” the boy muttered, looking down at the cup in his hands. He slowly sipped the warm tea within, his mind racing like crazy. Should he give it a shot? This guy certainly seemed friendly enough. And Luis was right - his smile was _gorgeous_. Still, today, Xander wasn’t feeling 100%. It’d be hard to hide how sick he was.

After some thought, the boy shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I can’t.”

“Alright. Maybe some other time, then.”

As Bucky got to his feet, Xander lifted his gaze to meet the man’s warm blue eyes. There was no disappointment in them. No resentment. In fact, he seemed perfectly fine. Huh. The boy offered him a kind smile; normally, he’d say no. That he wasn’t interested. Because, really, Xander might have, what, ten months left? If he was lucky? This guy wouldn’t be happy, in the long run. And this kid, he wasn’t the type to be selfish like that. He should say no. He knew he should say no.

But that wasn’t what came out.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Bucky flashed him what the boy could only describe as a charming smile, like one of those smiles those unsuspecting boys that weren’t your average Prince Charming would have. It was beautiful, and Xander really wanted to hate him for it. “See ya around, babydoll.”

He tried to ignore the fluttering sensation in his stomach as he watched Bucky walk off towards the apartment building, but it was no use.


End file.
